


Lights

by ninja19



Series: The Devil's Tears [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Real Lucifer stops by, Sam's hallucinating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninja19/pseuds/ninja19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is huddled in the corner of his hospital room, knees clasped to his chest and head bowed, when Lucifer’s denim-clad legs appear in front of him. “Sam,” he says grandly, clearly expecting some kind of reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights

Sam is huddled in the corner of his hospital room, knees clasped to his chest and head bowed, when Lucifer’s denim-clad legs appear in front of him. “Sam,” he says grandly, clearly expecting some kind of reaction.

Sam flinches from the sound and tightens the arms around his knees, making him appear even smaller. He begins to rock back and forth quickly – maintaining a steady rhythm gives him something to focus on other than the pain and the hallucinations. He doesn’t dare look up, doesn’t want to see the face of his tormentor who has been putting him through this ordeal for months now. He digs his nails into his palm and mutters _notrealnotrealnotreal_ under his breath because really, that’s all he can hang on to right now.

“Sam?” Lucifer repeats in a gentler tone, and Sam shakes his head because that’s not right, his mind is playing tricks again, Lucifer is not gentle. The fallen angel crouches in front on him, their faces mere inches apart. “Hey.”

Sam doesn’t look, doesn’t want to look, doesn’t want to be so close. He scrambles back further into the corner until the walls stop him from going any further. He forces his eyes to focus on a patch of floor next to his feet. _Try to think of something real._

He thinks of Dean, except Sam’s let him down so many times.

He thinks of Stanford, except he never could have had a normal life.

He thinks of Jess, except he let her die.

Sam’s hurt so many people in his life. He just wants it to end.

 Lucifer’s cold fingers grazing his cheek snap him out of his reverie and he twitches away from the touch. He tries to twist his head in attempt to get even further away, but who is he kidding? There’s no escape.

Lucifer sighs and grips Sam’s face, finally making him turn to look at him.  Sam shudders because he knows what comes next, but Lucifer just stares him straight in the eye. Sam’s breathing is ragged and he knows his eyes are probably crazed and wild. Lucifer’s features have a strange clarity to them and Sam almost laughs, because wow, you can get torture in HD now.

But Lucifer looks oddly concerned as he breathes, “What have they _done_ to you?” and Sam doesn’t get it, really doesn’t, but he can’t think about it, has to brace himself for whatever happens next.

Bracing himself doesn’t prepare him for a strange tingling in his mind, like an itch he can’t scratch, and he realises Lucifer is probing around his thoughts. Sam feels his memories being pulled to the front of his mind and he’s confused but nothing hurts yet so he’s not going to complain. He knows Lucifer is sifting through his memories, starting from when he got out of the Cage, because each memory flashes in front of him like some kind of sick slideshow. He winces when he sees himself soulless, killing innocents, because that’s the kind of thing he locks away so it’s possible for him to function in everyday life.

Lucifer cycles through it all, right up to Cas breaking the wall in his mind and the hallucinations of Hell and Lucifer and Sam feels Lucifer pull away as if in disgust, which is strange he thinks because he’s been here the whole time and he knows all this already.

Sam’s vision is in the present once again and he’s looking at Lucifer but Lucifer’s not looking at him. He’s looking across the room at the table on the other side of the bed with a frown, and Sam feels strangely calmer as he cranes his neck to see what Lucifer finds so interesting.

On the table is Lucifer, wearing a sombrero and creating a series of knock knock jokes, all of which culminate in the punchline, “Doesn’t matter ‘cause you’re still in Hell,” which is less imaginative than he’s been lately, but whatever, Sam will take that over the “198 bones not broken, 198 bones to go” song any day.

But then Sam’s brain starts _working_ and he realises with a new kind of horror that Lucifer is still crouched in front of him. His eyes flick between the Lucifer inches away and the Lucifer across the room, and it’s too much. He collapses in on himself, laughing hysterically, because really, _two Lucifers._

The Lucifer in front of him snaps his attention back to Sam. “Sam, that’s not me,” but Sam barely hears, his head buried in his knees and his nails drawing blood out of his palm. He feels Lucifer grip his wrists with his icy hands, pulling Sam’s hands apart, stopping him from doing any more damage to himself. “Sam, look at me,” and Sam does, because dammit, he’s using the same kind of no nonsense voice Dean used to use when Sam was a kid who always listened to his big brother and old habits die hard he guesses.

Lucifer’s features are twisted with worry and concern, and Sam thinks he’s seeing things, well seeing more things than usual, because Lucifer doesn’t do worry or concern. Sam looks back at the floor because he doesn’t know what to make of this, doesn’t want to make anything out of this, just wants it all to stop.

Lucifer sighs again and stands, pulling Sam to his shaky feet too. He begins to pull Sam across the room and Sam’s reluctant because he doesn’t want to go anywhere with him and he most certainly does not want to get closer to the other Lucifer because he can hardly deal with one right now.

But Lucifer persists and he’s strong, strong enough he could rips Sam’s arms out his sockets if he wants, but he doesn’t. He’s gentle and he soothes Sam with words and encourages him to move until they’re both standing in front of the table with Sombrero-Lucifer – who seems to be saying something and cackling wildly but he’s muted somehow, like Sam’s hearing him through water rather than air, and he can’t hear his taunts.

Other Lucifer is saying “Sam, I’m here, that isn’t me, I can’t even _see_ him, it’s all in your head,” but Sam is hardly even listening because he’s focused on the way Lucifer is waving his arms around over the table and how they’re sliding right through Sombrero-Lucifer as if he’s not even there, and Sam gets the crazy impulse to do the same, to reach out and see if he can touch him, even though really he knows he can since this Lucifer has caused him so much pain in the last few months. He tries it anyway.

His arm reaches out and passes through the torso of Sombrero-Lucifer as if he were made of air.

Sam laughs, because he feels like he’s won as the image in front of him distorts, flickers and vanishes.

Then he remembers he has the other Lucifer to deal with and shies away.

“Sammy, I’m _real_. It’s _me._ I would never hurt you,” but Sam doesn’t believe it because the other hallucination said that before and look how that turned out. Lucifer sighs again and grasps Sam’s hands with his own, bringing them up to cup his own face. Sam can feel cold skin tingling under his fingertips. “I’m real, I promise.”

Lucifer closes his eyes and Sam supposes this is some kind of true vessel bond thing they have going on because he can _feel_ that Lucifer is real, he’s not a hallucination, he’s not going to hurt him. He got out of the Cage and the first thing he did was come to find Sam.

Not because he wants him to say yes or use him to bring on the Apocalypse. Because he was worried about him. Because he knows what over a hundred years in Hell – in the Cage, no less – can do to a human soul and he had to make sure Sam wasn’t broken.

Except he’d found him about as broken as he could be.

Sam can’t remember ever feeling so truly relieved, even if he is clutching the face of Satan himself. “It’s over?” he asks in voice hoarse from disuse and disbelief. Lucifer opens his eyes and fixes Sam with a familiar piercing blue gaze, looking almost as relieved as Sam. He smiles slightly; a real smile, a genuine smile.

“It’s over.”

Sam doesn’t know what possesses him then, and later he will blame it on the aftershock of all the crazy, but he surges forwards and crashes their lips together in a desperate kiss. Lucifer murmurs in surprise, but Sam hangs on and suddenly Lucifer is kissing back, his arms wrapping tightly around Sam’s waist. Sam slides his hands into Lucifer’s hair and hangs on just as tightly, but he breaks the kiss after only a few seconds. He buries his face into Lucifer’s neck, breathing in ice and thunder and ozone, and chokes out “Missed you Luce,” but that’s about all he can manage right now. Lucifer’s arms tighten as he draws soothing circles on Sam’s back with his fingers.

“Missed you too Sammy.” 


End file.
